whole valley of the Mississippi, while to the north-west it stretched
across the Rocky Mountains as far as the Pacific. All beyond the
Missouri was still wilderness, much of it wholly unexplored, but to the
east of the Mississippi there were now twenty-four States with an area
of 2,059,043 square miles and a population of fourteen millions. The new
Western States, though rapidly increasing, were still so raw as to
exercise comparatively little influence on the balance of national
power, which vibrated between the free Northern and the Southern Slave
States. Slavery was not an immediately menacing question, for the first
wound it made had been skinned over, so to speak, by the Missouri
Compromise of 1820; but it was evidently pregnant with future trouble,
for the number of slaves was rapidly increasing, and the slaveholders
were already resolved to retain their political influence by the
creation of new slave States. The great Federalist party had vanished,
and the Republican-Democratic party, which had triumphed over it, had
just been split up into several bitterly hostile factions. Questions of
foreign policy were no longer urgent, for Europe had ceased to menace
America, who had now no neighbours on her own continent except the
British Crown on the north and the Mexican Republic on the south and
west. The protective tariff and the existence of the United States Bank
were the questions most agitated, but the main dividing party lines were
still those which connected themselves with the stricter or looser
interpretation of the Federal Constitution—that is to say, they were
questions as to the extent of Federal power on the one hand, as to the
rights of the States on the other. New England was still Puritan and
commercial, with a bias towards protective tariffs, the South still
agricultural, and in favour of free trade. The rule of the masses had
made its greatest strides in New York, the first, among the older
States, which introduced the new methods of party organization and which
thoroughly democratized her Constitution[166]. Everywhere property
qualifications for office or the electoral franchise were being
abolished, and even the judges formerly nominated by the State Governor
or chosen by the State Legislature were beginning to be elected by
manhood suffrage and for terms of years. In fact a great democratic wave
was passing over the country, sweeping away the old landmarks,
destroying the respect for authority, casting office and power more and
more into the hands of the humbler classes, and causing the withdrawal
from public life of men of education and refinement. State feeling was
still strong, especially in the South, and perhaps stronger than
national feeling, but the activity of commerce and the westward movement
of population were breaking down the old local exclusiveness, and those
who saw steamboats plying on the Hudson and heard that locomotive
engines were beginning to be run in England, might have foreseen that
the creation of more easy, cheap, and rapid communications would bind
the sections of the country together with a new and irresistible power.
The time was one of great commercial activity and great apparent
prosperity; but large fortunes were still few, while in the general
pursuit of material objects science, learning, and literature had fallen
into the background. Emerson was still a young Unitarian minister, known
only to the circle of his own friends. Channing was just rising into
note; Longfellow and Hawthorne, Prescott and Ticknor had not begun to
write. Washington Irving was one of the few authors whose names had
reached Europe. How disagreeable the manners of ordinary people (for one
must of course except the cultivated circles of Boston and Philadelphia)
seemed to the European visitor may be gathered from the diaries of
Richard Cobden and Sir Charles Lyell, who travelled in America a year or
two after Tocqueville. There was a good deal of ability among the ruling
generation of statesmen—the generation of 1787 was just dying out with
Madison—but only three names can be said to have survived in the world’s
memory, the names of three party leaders who were also great orators,
Clay, Calhoun, and Webster[167].
-----
Footnote 166:
The process of democratization was completed by the Constitution of
1846.
Footnote 167:
To none of whom, oddly enough, does Tocqueville refer. He is
singularly sparing in his references to individuals, mentioning no one
except President Jackson for blame and Livingston (author of the
Louisiana Code and Secretary of State, 1831-3) for praise.
-----
In those days America was a month from Europe and comparatively little
affected by Europe. Her people walked in a vain conceit of their own
greatness and freedom, and scorned instruction from the effete
monarchies of the Old World, which in turn repaid them with contemptuous
indifference. Neither continent had realized how closely its fortunes
were to be interwoven with those of the other by trade and the movements
of population. No wheat, no cattle were sent across the Atlantic, nor
had the flow of immigration from Ireland, much less from Central Europe,
as yet begun.
The United States of 1834 had made enormous advances in material
prosperity. Already a great nation, it could become a great power as
soon as it cared to spend money on fleets and armies. The Federal
government had stood the test of time and of not a few storms. Its
component parts knew their respective functions, and worked with less
friction than might have been expected. The sense of national unity,
powerfully stimulated by the war of 1812, was still growing. But the
level of public life had not risen. It was now rather below than above
that of average private society. Even in the realm of morality there
were strange contrasts. A puritan strictness in some departments of
conduct and a universal recognition of the sanctions of religion
co-existed in the North with some commercial laxity, while the
semi-civilized South, not less religious and valuing itself on its high
code of honour, was disgraced by the tolerance accorded to duels and
acts of murderous violence, not to speak of the darker evils which
slavery brought in its train. As respects the government of States and
cities, democratic doctrines had triumphed all along the line. The
masses of the people had now realized their power, and entered into the
full fruition of it. They had unlimited confidence in their wisdom and
virtue, and had not yet discovered the dangers incidental to the rule of
numbers. The wise elders, or the philosophic minds who looked on with
distrust, were either afraid to speak out, or deemed it hopeless to try
to stem the flowing tide. They stood aside (as Plato says) under the
wall out of the storm. The party organizations had just begun to spread
their tough yet flexible network over the whole country; and the class
of professional politicians, at once the creator and the creature of
such organizations, was already formed. The offices had, three years
before, been proclaimed to belong to the victors as spoils of war, but
few saw to what consequences this doctrine was to lead. I will not say
that it was a period of transition, for that is true of every period in
America, so fast do events move even in the quietest times; but it was a
period when that which had been democratic theory was passing swiftly
into democratic practice, when the seeds sown long ago by Jefferson had
ripened into a waving crop, when the forces which in every society react
against extreme democracy were unusually weak, some not yet developed,
some afraid to resist the stream.
VI. TOCQUEVILLE’S IMPRESSIONS AND PROPHECIES.
Let us see what were the impressions which the America of 1832 made on
the mind of Tocqueville. I do not pretend to summarize his account,
which every student ought to read for himself, but shall be content with
presenting the more salient points that ought to be noted in comparing
1832 with 1788 on the one hand, and 1900 on the other.
He is struck by the thoroughness with which the principle of the
sovereignty of the people is carried out. Seventy years ago this
principle was far from having obtained its present ascendency in Western
Europe. In America, however, it was not merely recognized in theory, but
consistently applied through every branch of local, State, and National
government.
He is impressed by the greater importance to ordinary citizens of State
government than of Federal government, and their warmer attachment to
the former than to the latter. The Federal government seems
comparatively weak, and in case of a conflict between the two powers,
the loyalty of the people would be given rather to the State[168].
-----
Footnote 168:
His insistence on this point makes it all the more strange that he
does not give any description of a State as a commonwealth, nor
characterize the general features of its government.
-----
He finds the basis of all American government in the ‘commune,’ _i.e._
in local government, the ultimate unit of which is in New England the
township, in the Southern and Middle States the county. It is here that
the bulk of the work of administration is done, here that the citizens
learn how to use and love freedom, here that the wonderful activity they
display in public affairs finds its chief sphere and its constant
stimulus.
The absence of what a European calls ‘the administration’ is remarkable.
Public work is divided up between a multitude of petty and unrelated
local officials: there is no ‘hierarchy,’ no organized civil service
with a subordination of ranks. The means employed to keep officials to
their work and punish offences are two—frequent popular election and the
power of invoking the ordinary courts of justice to obtain damages for
negligence or unwarranted action. But along with the extreme
‘administrative decentralization’ there exists a no less extreme
‘governmental centralization,’ that is to say, all the powers of
government are collected into one hand, that of the people, the majority
of the voters. This majority is omnipotent; and thus authority is
strong, capable of great efforts, capable also of tyranny. Hence the
value of local self-government, which prevents the abuse of power by a
central authority: hence the necessity for this administrative
decentralization, which atones for its want of skill in details by the
wholesome influence it exerts on the character of the people.
The judges enjoy along with the dignity of their European brethren the
singular but most salutary power of ‘declaring laws to be
unconstitutional,’ and thus they serve to restrain excesses of
legislative as well as of executive authority.
The President appears to our author to be a comparatively weak official.
No person, no group, no party, has much to hope from the success of a
particular candidate at a Presidential election, because he has not much
to give away[!]. The elective system unduly weakens executive authority,
because a President who approaches the end of his four years’ term feels
himself feeble, and dares not take any bold step: while the coming in of
a new President may cause a complete change of policy. His
re-eligibility further weakens and abases him, for he must purchase
re-election by intrigue and an unworthy pandering to the desires of his
party. It intensifies the characteristic fault of democratic government,
the predominance of a temporary majority.
The Federal Supreme Court is the noblest product of the wisdom of those
who framed the Federal Constitution. It keeps the whole machine in
working order, protecting the Union against the States, and each part of
the Federal government against the aggressions of the others. The
strength of the Federation, naturally a weak form of government, lies in
the direct authority which the Federal courts have over the individual
citizen: while the action of these Courts, even against a State, gives
less offence than might be expected because they do not directly attack
its statutes, but merely, at the instance of an individual plaintiff or
defendant, secure to him rights which those statutes may have
incidentally infringed.
The Federal Constitution is much superior to the State Constitutions;
the Federal Legislature, Executive and Judiciary, are all of them more
independent of the popular majority, and freer in their action than the
corresponding authorities in the several States. Similarly the Federal
government is better than those of the States, wiser, more skilful, more
consistent, more firm.
The day of great parties is past: there is now a feverish agitation of
small parties and a constant effort to create parties, to grasp at some
principle or watchword under which men may group themselves, probably
for selfish ends. Self-interest is at the bottom of the parties, yet
aristocratic or democratic sentiment attaches itself to each of them,
that is to say, when a practical issue arises, the old antithesis of
faith in the masses and distrust of the masses reappears in the view
which men and parties take of it. The rich mix little in politics.
Secretly disgusted at the predominance of the crowd, they treat their
shoemaker as an equal when they meet him on the street, but in their
luxurious homes lament the vulgarity of public life and predict a bad
end for democracy.
Next to the people, the greatest power in the country is the press: yet
it is less powerful than in France, because the number of journals is so
prodigious, because they are so poorly written, because there is no
centre like Paris. Advertisements and general news occupy far more of
their space than does political argument, and in the midst of a din of
opposing voices the ordinary citizen retains his dull fixity of opinion,
the prejudices of his sect or party.
A European is surprised, not only at the number of voluntary
associations aiming at public objects, but at the tolerance which the
law accords to them. They are immensely active and powerful, and do not
threaten public security as they would in France, because they admit
themselves, by the very fact of their existence, to represent a minority
of voters, and seek to prevail by force of argument and not of arms.
Universal suffrage, while it gives admirable stability to the
government, does not, as people in Europe expect that it will, bring the
best men to the top. On the contrary, the governors are inferior to the
governed[169]. The best men do not seek either office or a seat in the
House of Representatives, and the people, without positively hating the
‘upper classes,’ do not like them; and carefully keep them out of power.
‘Il ne craint point les grands talents, mais il les goûte peu.’
-----
Footnote 169:
This is a common remark of visitors to America, but it arises from
their mistaking the people they see in society for ‘the governed’ in
general. They go carrying introductions to rich or educated people: if
they mixed with the masses they would form a different notion of ‘the
governed,’ as Tocqueville rather oddly calls the ordinary citizens.
-----
The striking inferiority of the House to the Senate is due to the fact
that the latter is a product of double election, and it is to double
election that democracies must come if they will avoid the evils
inseparable from placing political functions in the hands of every class
of the people[170].
-----
Footnote 170:
It is surprising that Tocqueville should have supposed this to be the
cause of the excellence he ascribes to the Senate, considering that
the more obvious, as well as the true, explanation is to be found in
the fact that the wider powers and longer term of the Senate made the
ablest men seek entrance to it.
-----
American magistrates are allowed a wider arbitrary discretion than is
common in Europe, because they are more constantly watched by the
sovereign people, and are more absolutely at their mercy[171].
-----
Footnote 171:
The only instance given of this is in the discretion allowed to the
officers of the New England townships, whose functions are, however,
unimportant. The statement cannot have been generally true.
-----
Every office is, in America, a salaried office; nor can anything be more
conformable to the spirit of a democracy. The minor offices are,
relatively to Europe, well paid, the higher ones ill paid. Nobody wears
any dress or displays any insignia of office[172].
-----
Footnote 172:
This remained true till very recent years as regards public officials,
save and except the Judges of the Supreme Court when sitting at
Washington. But lately the Supreme Court Judges of some States have
begun to wear gowns.
-----
Administration has both an unstable and an unscientific character. Few
records are kept of the acts of departments: little information is
accumulated: even original documents are neglected. Tocqueville was
sometimes given such documents in answer to his queries, and told that
he might keep them. The conduct of public business is a hand to mouth,
rule of thumb sort of affair[173].
-----
Footnote 173:
This has ceased to be true in Federal administration, and in that of
the more advanced States.
-----
Not less instability reigns in the field of legislation. Laws are being
constantly changed; nothing remains fixed or certain[174].
-----
Footnote 174:
Tocqueville does not say whether he intends this remark to apply to
State legislation only or to Federal legislation also. He quotes dicta
of Hamilton, Madison, and Jefferson to the same effect, but these
testimonies, or most of them, refer to a time anterior to the creation
of the Federal Constitution. If it is true that State laws were being
constantly changed in 1832, this can have been true only of
administrative statutes, not of private law generally. One is tempted
to believe that Tocqueville was unconsciously comparing America with
France, where the Code has arrested legislation to an extent
surprising to an English observer.
-----
It is a mistake to suppose that democratic governments are specially
economical. They are parsimonious in salaries, at least to the higher
officials, but they spend freely on objects beneficial to the mass of
the people, such as education, while the want of financial skill
involves a good deal of waste. You must not expect economy where those
who pay the bulk of the taxes are a mere fraction of those who direct
their expenditure. If ever America finds herself among dangers, her
taxation will be as heavy as that of European monarchies.
There is little bribery of voters, but many charges against the
integrity of politicians. Now the corruption of the ‘governors’ is worse
than that of the ‘governed,’ for it lowers the tone of public morals by
presenting the spectacle of prosperous turpitude.
The American democracy is self-indulgent and self-complacent, slow to
recognize, still more slow to correct, its faults. But it has the
unequalled good fortune of being able to commit reparable errors (_la
faculté de faire des fautes réparables_). It can sin with impunity.
It is eminently ill-fitted to conduct foreign policy. Fortunately it has
none.
The benefits which American society derives from its democratic
government are summed up as follows:—
As the majority make the laws, their general tendency, in spite of many
errors in detail, is to benefit the majority, because though the means
may sometimes be ill chosen, the end is always the same. Hence the
country prospers.
Every one is interested in the welfare of the country, because his own
welfare is bound up with it. This patriotism may be only an enlarged
egotism, but it is powerful nevertheless, for it is a permanent
sentiment, independent of transient enthusiasms. Its character appears
in the childish intolerance of criticism which the people display. They
will not permit you to find fault with any one of their institutions or
habits, not even if you praise all the rest[175].
-----
Footnote 175:
Every one knows how frequently European visitors used to comment upon
this American trait. It is now much less noticeable than formerly. I
can even say from experience that it has sensibly diminished since
1870.
-----
There is a profound respect for every political right, and therefore for
every magistrate, and for the authority of the law, which is the work of
the people themselves. If there be exceptions to this respect, they are
to be found among the rich, who fear that the law may be made or used to
their detriment.
The infinite and incessant activity of public life, the responsibilities
it casts on the citizen, the sense of his importance which it gives him,
have stimulated his whole nature, and made him enterprising in all
private affairs also. Hence, in great measure, the industrial prosperity
of the country. Democracy effects more for the material progress of a
nation than in the way of rendering it great in the arts, or in poetry,
or in manners, or in elevation of character, or in the capacity for
acting on other nations and leaving a great name in history.
We now come to the darker side of the picture. In democracies, the
majority is omnipotent, and in America the evils hence flowing are
aggravated by the shortness of the term for which a legislature is
chosen, by the weakness of the Executive, by the incipient disposition
to choose even the judges by popular vote, by the notion universally
accepted that the majority must be right. The majority in a legislature
being unchecked, laws are hastily made and altered, administration has
no permanence, officials are allowed a dangerously wide range of
arbitrary authority. There is no escape from the tyranny of the
majority. It dominates even thought, forbidding, not indeed by law, but
through social penalties no less effective than legal ones, the
expression of any opinion displeasing to the ordinary citizen. In
theology, even in philosophy, one must beware of any divergence from
orthodoxy. No one dare tell an unwelcome truth to the people, for it
will receive nothing but incense. Such repression sufficiently explains
the absence of great writers and of great characters in public life. It
is not therefore of weakness that free government in America will ever
perish, but through excess of strength, the majority driving the
minority to despair and to arms.
There are, however, influences which temper the despotism of the
majority. One is the existence of a strong system of local
self-government, whereby nearly all administration is decentralized.
Another is the power of the lawyers, a class everywhere disposed to
maintain authority and to defend that which exists, and specially so
disposed in England and America because the law which they study and
practise is founded on precedents and despises abstract reason. A third
exists in the jury, and particularly the jury in its action in civil
causes, for it teaches the people not only the regular methods of law
and justice, but respect for law and for the judges who administer it.
Next we come to an enumeration of the causes which maintain republican
government. They are, over and above the constitutional safeguards
already discussed, the following:—
The absence of neighbouring States, and the consequent absence of great
wars, of financial crises[176], of invasions or conquests. How dangerous
to republics is the passion for military glory is shown by the two
elections of General Jackson to be President, a man of violent temper
and limited capacity, recommended by nothing but the memory of his
victory at New Orleans twenty years before[177].
-----
Footnote 176:
This observation seems strange indeed to any one who remembers the
commercial history of the United States since the great crisis of
1838.
Footnote 177:
Jackson’s popularity began with his military exploit: but his hold on
the people was due to other causes also. His election coincided with
the rise of the great democratic wave already referred to.
-----
The absence of a great capital.
The material prosperity of the country, due to its immense extent and
natural resources, which open a boundless field in which the desire of
gain and the love of independence may gratify themselves and render the
vices of man almost as useful to society as his virtues. The passions
which really agitate America are commercial, not political.
The influence of religion. American Protestantism is republican and
democratic; American Catholicism no less so; for Catholicism itself
tends to an equality of conditions, since it treats all men alike. The
Catholic clergy are as hearty republicans as any others.